


Modern Leper

by Pickle_Chips



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Everybody Lives, Fluff, Get Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Multi, Past Drug Addiction, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29967792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pickle_Chips/pseuds/Pickle_Chips
Summary: Modern Leper follows the Marauders:  Remus Lupin (a 19 year old addict in recovery), Sirius Black (a recently disowned guitar player), James Potter (a lovesick footballer) and Peter Petigrew (a lonely and ambitious young man) as they begin university and navigate the love, heartbreak, successes and betrayals of early adulthood.I do not support JK Rowling or her anti-trans rhetoric.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	1. Year One Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I have borrowed the concept of Remus being raised in a care home from the brilliant MsKingbean89. She mentioned on tumblr she didn't mind that stuff but I will happily delete this and my whole life if that changes. Apologizes to the British.

Remus Lupin shifted uncomfortably in his metal folding chair. The legs were sinking into the grass. He was looking forward to this, he reminded himself. He had never worked harder on anything than he had on those A-levels. 

_Not true_ , the addict part of his mind reminded him, _remember that one night when we were out and we went with Danny to_ \- not now, thought Remus, silencing the little voice. He wanted to go to uni. He got in. He was going to enjoy it.

He took a deep breath and pressed his thumb into the chip in his pocket. He could feel the triangle, it calmed him down. 18 months now. Nothing to sneeze at. He focused again, fixed his gaze on the bright red ponytail of the girl sitting in front of him. 

The commencement speaker, a tiny man with a beard and glasses, was using a rather lot of hand gestures to illuminate his larger point, which seemed to be that it was an amazing bit of progress that Hargots University had decided, after 200 years of operation, to let women into the incoming freshman class for the first time.

Remus was pleased, the school had an excellent reputation and from his limited experience in public school and his numerous years coming up with schemes with his care home friends, girls were smarter anyway. The crowd didn’t appear to feel the same way. 

Remus looked around, bewildered, as a large and rowdy group of his classmates boo’d from the back. He felt prickly nervousness at the base of his neck. 

He had heard - everyone had heard - that there was vehement opposition to the inclusion of women at the school. _Tradition! Legacy! Status! Cancel Culture! Feminazi!_ But Remus thought all that stuff was mostly made up to sell papers, he was shocked to find that the attitude was seated six rows behind him and rudely interrupting. 

The girl in front of him turned around too, and Remus caught her eye. He tried to smile somewhat encouragingly, but her face was still sour. _Nice going_ , he thought, _great job at making friends already._

That was something Remus was worried about, making friends. He was shy when he was a young kid and then - well. The truth of the matter was that in the home he was raised in he fell in with entirely the wrong sort of people to make friends with. Hellish, rowdy, abandoned kids. Bright, and funny, and alone. He had loved them, they were his only family. Things with them had been so good, so alive, just them against the word. They had taught him everything, breaking, stealing, fighting and - his favorite - drugs.

Turns out, Remus loved drugs. Loved pills, loved the small oblivians and how it made everything in the world ok for just a moment, turning a dull night into an adventure. Loved how easy it became to bond with the other kids. Loved sliding in and out of reality, not having to feel bored, angry, lonely, stupid. He could still taste the first ‘opioid’ (but of course, they’d never called them that) on his tongue even now, could roll it around, could - not right now, enough. 

Essentially, there was a word for how much Remus loved drugs and he used it every Tuesday and Thursday at 7 sharp. 

_Hi, I’m Remus and I’m an Addict._

_Hi, Remus._

Anyway, it had been a long time since he made friends, and he was not sure how to do it at all without pouring a shot, lighting a joint, and he wasn’t about to start that again. He had relapsed a few times since he had gotten clean the first time, but he really wanted things to be different here. He stopped, scooping his bag up off the grass and wincing as the red-haired girl glared at him _(Wait, maybe past him? Maybe she was glaring at the greasy boy just beyond his shoulder? There was hope for him yet.)_

He thought, in quick flashes, of the steps of getting clean. Dr. D in the hospital room, offering him the only hope Remus had ever had. Withdrawl. Illness. Hating NA. Hating AA. Losing all his friends. Thinking he could just drink, no drugs. Relapse. Recommitting. Giving everything he could to homeschooling. Doing well, really well, on his A-levels. Sealing the juvenile records. Starting to write, just for fun, because he was lonely. Moving in with his sponsor, just temporarily, just until school. Writing his entrance essay, slaving over it. Then, amazingly, an acceptance letter. 

Now, he was here, determined to be normal. He could go to university like everyone else, have a real future that didn’t revolve around where his next fix was coming from, or hiding the drugs, or clean pee, or a thousand other all consuming worries. Dr. D had assured him it wasn’t too late. His sponsor, Poppy, had assured him he still had “lots of life ahead,” but also had cautioned him about keeping the right sort of environment. He wondered if there was such a thing as a normal sober uni.

As the speech ended and everyone shuffled out, Remus pulled out his phone to avoid eye contact, tapped in his new address into maps. He couldn’t remember how to get to his building yet. 

It wasn’t exactly a dorm, but an apartment on campus. There were a group of boys who already knew each other were looking for a fourth. Remus had agreed, done the set up through a school counselor, mostly because he didn’t want to get kicked out over the hols and the dorms closed when the school did. He had nowhere to go. 

He had moved in all of his stuff (all of his stuff! Two book bags and duffle, that he had at Poppy’s house - she had been letting him stay while he finished his A-levels. The care home was full of his old people, and of plenty of temptation) last week but none of his roommates had moved in yet. He was a little cranky about the five flights of stairs, but happy his bedroom had a window that opened onto the roof. 

The apartment had two bedrooms with two bathrooms (huge, Remus thought, he had had to share a bathroom with 6 other boys) a gally strip of a kitchen that made basically no sense, and a pretty nice common room with windows that looked out onto the sidewalk below. Lots of sun. 

Last week, He idly wondered who his roommate would be, if they minded that he had taken the bed he had left his bags on. Now, he could hear laughter coming from the door. He wondered if he should knock, before cautiously turning the key in the lock.

The scene that greeted Remus was straight out of a comedy. 

A blonde boy with a round face was holding a whipped cream canister aloft, face already smeared with the stuff. His hand was perilously close to knocking a cake off the counter. One boy, the loudest, had climbed monkey-like on the back of another. His glasses were askew and he was laughing loudly as he tried to fully coat his friend’s face in whipped cream. The last was thrashing his friend around with reckless abandon, long dark hair getting in his eyes. Remus realized - heart dropping to the bottom of his stomach - that he knew him.

Sirius Black. 


	2. Year One Part Two

_ Shit. Damn. Fuck.  _

This was not going to be good. Remus took a breath to compose himself, wondering if they would even remember. But he did, god. When Remus was 11, he had briefly - less than two months - gone to a private school. Posh. 

He had made it on scholarship because he was clever, and he was proud. But the boys there were vicious, shoving him around, calling him gay (which was unfair as it turned out to be true), mocking him for being parentless and dirty. 

In St. Mundy’s, his care home, his friends had also bullied him for thinking he was too good for him. Remus developed a bad attitude that only made things worse for him in both places. It was the worst part of Remus’ life that hadn’t involved needles.

Of course that was Sirius, of course. He and James and Peter, who yes, Remus recognized now, had been bright and funny and popular at the school, and they hadn’t bullied Remus like the others. They mostly ignored the bullying, mind, but they never partook, instead delighting themselves by putting tacks on chairs or setting off the fire alarm and various other benign things. Remus was deeply, infuriatingly jealous of them. 

They were posh, clearly all had money, good grades. Better than Remus on the last front by slim margins, and he needed to be top of his class to keep his scholarship. People complained about them being loud or silly, but they were even well thought of, and Remus never saw them take a singular punch.

Then one day, when a boy four years older than Remus, Lucius Malfoy (how are you going to be a bully with a name like  _ that _ , Remus had thought at the time, St. Mundy’s would tear you apart) had Remus pinned in the locker room with about four boys behind him, Sirius Black had stepped in. 

Lucius was throwing punch after punch, his friends were holding Remus (because he  _ certainly _ didn’t take it lying down, thank you very much, and it  _ would _ take five of them to break his nose if he had anything to say about it.) Remus didn’t remember what he said even, something about family, and reputation, and wouldn’t-your-mother-like-to-know and Malfoy had sneered, but stopped hitting Remus. He and his crew said something snide to Sirius that suggested he would pay for his heroic antics later, and they cleared off.

“Hi,” young Sirius had said, kicking some dirt on the ground with his shoe “sorry about them. Gits.”

Remus just scowled at him from the locker room floor. Sirius stretched out his hand to help him up. Remus just looked at it.

“I don’t need your stupid help,” He had said, reaching to pinch his nose to stop blood he was sure was due an second, “I’mb fime.” 

Sirius had laughed, and Remus had only glared harder. 

“I can walk you to the nurse, if you want,” Sirius had offered, stuffing his hand back into his pocket. 

“No,” Remus scoffed, “Not going.” 

Sirius had shrugged, starting to walk away. “Suit yourself,” then, quietly as he turned the corner, “I like your trainers.”

Remus had replayed this moment in his head for the next 7 years. He felt his cheeks grow hot even now. 

He had been so rude to Sirius, and why? That had meant so much to him. He wore those shoes till they fell off his feet, then he had taped them back together. He still sometimes laid in his bed, glaring at his ceiling, feeling shame and cringing at his rude 11 year old self. 

_ Say thanks, you fucker  _ he thought,  _ just say thank you.  _

No one had messed with him for the rest of his time there, and he had to assume he owed that to Sirius. He eventually lost his scholarship, just a bureaucratic thing, went back to being schooled at the care home with the other kids. That was that. He thought, well, at least he would never have to see him again.

And now, Sirius Black was standing in front of him in his full glory, with James Potter on his back, squirting whipped cream into his now reluctantly open mouth. Lovely. 


	3. Year One Part Three

“Ahhhh!” yelled the boy Remus was pretty sure was James, unless he was deeply mistaken, as Sirius dropped him unceremoniously on the floor. And then, “Hi!” as he rebounded easily, fixing his glasses and running a hand through his hair. 

“You must be Remus! We saw on the room assignments. Nice to meet you! Anyway, I’m James, and this is Peter and Sirius. Sirius is your roommate! Sorry about that one mate, there was a bet involved, Pete and I are in this one - Anyway, we got a cake!” James went on and Remus swallowed. Bugger. Roommate. He glanced at the cake. It said Rent Was Due Last Week which he imagined as someone’s idea of being cheeky.

“Er - hi, that’s nice,” Remus gestured to the cake, then, still not sure if they remembered him or not, “nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand to James, who clearly thought it was a little formal, but shook it with a crooked grin. 

“Yeah, well, we figured first big night on our own we would really pull out all the stops. Anyway, we were thinking about heading out to grab a bite to celebrate, you obviously have to come with us,” he replied, easy. 

Remus smiled. James was nice, already trying to make him feel included. He had an easy sort of camaraderie about him. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“I am starving,” Remus replied 

“My kinda lad! I’m just going to change.”

“Bring me my shirt back!” Sirius called after him, then to Peter, “You know, Petey boy, you should really wash your face, it looks like somebody came -” Sirius was teasing, but Peter cut him off with a loud groan.

“Don’t start with all that gross shit! I’m going, I’m going,” and he sulked off to wash the whipped cream off his face, “and don’t call me ‘Petey’!”

Sirius grinned, and Remus shifted awkwardly. Bugger. Now they were alone.

Should he apologize? Say thanks? Keep working with the presumptive lie that they hadn’t met before? Didn’t he have enough to keep hidden? 

All of this was rapidly crashing into the problem that in the last 7 years Sirus Black had apparently decided to become very fit, with strong shoulders and nice hands. Remus risked a quick glance down at his lanky frame. Why had he worn this stupid jacket?! 

Sirius lifted the bottom of his shirt, showing just a hint of his stomach, to wipe the whipped cream off his face. He wore a very measured, cool expression, not nearly as warm or welcoming as James. 

“Sorry about all that. James was just messing about,” Sirius turned, hopped up to sit on the counter next to the cake, “It’s nice to see you again.”

Remus’ mouth dropped open. So much for pretending. Sirius quirked an eyebrow, stealing a bit of the piped icing from the edge of the cake.

He didn’t have time to respond, because James came bounding back into the room.   
“You’re not being a dick already, are you?” He demanded of Sirius.

“I’m never a dick.”

“He’s a dick. Anyway, Remus! What are you studying, when do your classes start?”

James carried the conversation like an absolute champion, asking questions and rounding them up, hustling them a few doors down to a local. They took seats at a booth in the back and Peter rubbed his hands together.

“Should we get a round?”

Remus swallowed. He hadn’t been at school for 45 minutes, and he was already going to out himself as a weirdo. He didn’t drink. NA considered alcohol a drug, and even though that hadn’t been Remus’ particular position he didn’t think it was safe for him to bend those rules. The deal was: he was sober. All the time. Thinking on his feet, he hopped up. 

“Sure, I’ll get it, what’s everyone having?”

A beer, a beer, and a gin and ginger. He could do this. He slid to the corner of the bar and ordered drinks for his friends, and a ginger ale in a highball glass with a lime for himself. The bartender gave him a rather soft look at that, like she knew what that was about, and he was grateful. He felt rather proud of himself. One trick down. 

Of course, that lasted about as long as a gnat’s lifespan because as he was reaching to hand James and Peter their beers (“Cheers!” they had chorused, distracted) Sirius had taken a huge sip of the wrong drink. 

Sirius scowled at the drink in his hand, clearly questioning its strength. 

“Oh, sorry that’s - uh - mine,” Remus handed him his correct drink. Sirius swallowed, and for the second time in an hour Sirius looked at Remus and Remus felt deeply, embarrassingly seen. A beat passed, and he wondered if Sirius was going to say anything about his clearly non-alcoholic drink, dressed up in all the trappings of a cocktail. 

He just raised his eyebrows, and took his correct glass, quietly moving over for Remus to pile in the booth. 

“So, Remus, where did you go to school?” Peter asked.

Remus winced. Not his favorite question. 

“Oh, um, here and there. I was homeschooled a lot. Actually,” he risked a glance at Sirius, who was still watching him with his unflappable expression, “I did go to Edmunds with you all for a tiny bit. I remember you lot.”

“Oh!” James looked surprised, “I had no clue! That’s brilliant, another Edmund’s lad. What year was that?”

“First,” Sirius replied. James looked surprised. 

“Yeah, that’s right. I wasn’t very memorable though, I don’t think I said ten words the whole time I was there.” Remus supplied. He gave James a small smile, trying to tell him he was fine with not being remembered. 

“Well it's practically a reunion here,” Peter piped up, “You have us, Snape and Nott and their whole gang, and that’s just from Edmund’s proper in our year. If you include the sister school, now we have Marlene McKinnon, and Dorcas Meadowes, and Lily Ev-”

“Evans,” James sighed dreamily. 

“He’s been in love with her since he was 11,” Sirius helpfully supplied Remus over the rim of his glass.

“Oh, never would have guessed,” Remus quipped back.

“She’s perfect,” James cradled his chin in his hand, staring off into the middle distance.

“She’d like to kill him,” Peter said.

“But what a way to die,” James replied. 

Sirius gave a short bark of a laugh at that, unfolded his arms, grinned. Remus let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Banter, he could do this. 

They carried on until they had finished their drinks, ordered chips, eaten them. James was working on trying to secure Lily’s class schedule, so he could change all of his courses to match hers, though they had different majors.

Peter was telling him about a secret society on campus - the Salazar Society, named for a former Dean of the school - who carved serpents into everything and apparently were behind all the boo’ing at commencement. Sirius had cousins there, they were trying to recruit him. 

“You won’t join?” Remus had asked him

Sirius made a deeply sour face.

“Fuck them. My whole family is like that, I hate everything they stand for, all that nonsense purity holier than thou bullshit. I wouldn’t have even gone here if they didn’t give me a full ride and these two idiots picking it,” he gestured to James and Peter, “Honestly, though, they wouldn’t really want me to join up. I don’t live up to their standards.” 

James adopted a mockingly sweet expression, “But you could dear, as long as you gave up your ‘lifestyle choices.’”

Remus’ heart skipped a beat. Wait, was Sirius - 

Sirius snorted, “and cut my hair.”

“And lasered off your tattoo.” James supplied.

“And took out your earring,” Peter piped up.

“Right, all that, and if I could just fundamentally change my personality, then I would suit them just fine,” Sirius finished, draining dregs from his melted ice, and looking pointedly at Remus as if challenging him to say something. 

Remus blinked, then nodded. He didn’t have a family, he thought, what did he know. Sirius seemed to be watching for his reaction. 

“Fuck them, then.” Remus tried. 

Right answer. Sirius smiled at that, and hopped up. 

“Another round, lads?” 

But it wasn’t a question, and he was back with drinks after very little delay. Remus’ could feel his pulse throbbing in his ears. But the glass slid in front of him just like the first. He sniffed it surreptitiously. Took a tiny sip. Ginger Ale.

Sirius gave him a small smile before launching with James into a long bit about Peter’s many failed dating attempts, and by the time they were walking home Remus felt as warm as if he had actually drank.


	4. Year One Part Four

That first week, Remus stared up at the ceiling every night in his and Sirius’ room for hours, terrified. 

During the days, he felt almost hopeful. He had liked his classes, he was an english and creative writing major, even had a college prep and community class with all of his roommates that was required of all freshmen. There he had met the famous Lily, though he hadn’t gotten to speak to her yet. She very pointedly did not look at their table. James was undeterred. Severus Snape was also in that class, as were a bunch of boys Peter told him were in the secret society, and the mood was tense. 

He has snuck off to his meetings on Tuesday and Thursday, and had vaguely recognized some people from school there, not that he intended to violate the  _ anonymous _ part of  _ narcotics anonymous _ . Overall though, the atmosphere was cheerful. 

He had studied to the point of lunacy, reading even the optional textbooks any chance he got. He felt miles behind everyone else, wealthy kids who had had parents and tutors.

He had spent a lot of time with his roommates, and he felt they had gelled well.

James was warm and kind, and despite his outwardly lad-ish appearance (he played football, Remus learned, and he was not surprised) he was genuinely funny and hadn’t made a single off color remark. 

Peter was quick to needle his friends for the ways he found them outlandish, and seemed committed to school and his future, which Remus appreciated. 

Sirius was impossibly cool, riffing off James easily, self assured and sharp. Remus was even mostly able to ignore that he happened to be impossibly fit. Together the three of them had this impenetrably close vibe. James and Sirius especially had the kind of best friendship that Remus had dreamed of since he was a boy. 

Remus was astounded that they seemed to like him and bring him into the fold, but they did.

But at night, Remus laid in bed awake, counting his secrets and adding to his lies. He felt like he was constantly walking a tightrope, terrified to lose his tenuous grasp on his friends.

“What do your parents do?” Peter had asked

“Oh, this and that,” Remus replied. _ Rot, mostly,  _ he had thought. 

“Want another beer, Remus?” James had asked the first Wednesday, while they all laid lazily doing homework in the common room. (The furniture all belonged to James, second hand chairs and couches. It was surprisingly comfortable, though ugly.) 

“Yeah, love one.” Remus had said, knowing full well he had poured the last one in the potted plant next to his chair. 

He would look at the ceiling fan at night and count the things he was trying to hide from his new friends.

_ Addict,  _ he thought, and all its associations. The sealed records, the hospital stays, the meetings, the chips he kept in a cigar box, the things he had gotten up to in the service of his addiction that he was less than proud.

_ Orphan _ , but when was a good time to bring that up? There wasn’t a way he had found to say that without this profound look to come across the receivers face, and most people didn’t know what to do with him after that. Plus it was complicated, because as far as he knew his mom was still out there somewhere, just unable to raise him.

_ Gay,  _ he was pretty sure. He at least thought as much on nights that included quite a lot of pills, or a hit, or three huge bottles of tequila and the boys at the care home who had gotten him into the stuff in the first place. They all sort of messed about, but also they were just kids. Sobriety had meant not dating, required for the first year for the first year and, and Remus was scared to start introducing other factors into his carefully balanced world. He wasn’t sure what sober him wanted. He didn’t know how the boys would take it, even with the numerous jokes about Sirius’ orientation. 

_ Journal _ hidden under his pillow. Bad writing within.

_ Poor  _ especially in comparison to the wealth around him.

_ Tattoo _ on his inner left forearm. It had been a good idea at the time. A friend from his meetings had just finished his tattoo apprenticeship, and had asked Remus if he’d let him practice. They had positioned it to cover his then fading track marks, and Remus had liked the idea that he couldn’t relapse without messing up the art work. He had drawn a moon, with clouds, and it actually looked pretty good. But when Remus saw it, he couldn’t help worrying it was pretentious, or too obvious what it was covering. 

And lastly, that truly interrupted his sleep the most,  _ smoker.  _

James had mentioned the lease had said no smoking, and he had made an offhand comment along the lines of: “Who would want to spoil their lungs anyway,” which was met with laughter and a pointed look at Sirius. Remus had clicked the lid of the zippo in his pocket. Another low class thing about him, he guessed. 

It took him three days to crack, but now he had had enough. He listened: Sirius’ breathing was even and steady. He slipped on his too big corduroy jacket and crept to the other side of the room, where the window opened to the room. The lease had also mentioned that they weren’t allowed on the roof, but honestly if you are going to rent to 19 year olds, what do you expect?

He had it open almost silently, he was halfway through, he was sure he was going to make it -

“Remus?” Sirius asked sleepily, “do you happen to be climbing out the window?”

He sighed. Would he ever be able to successfully keep anything from Sirius? The moonlight streamed onto Sirius’ face, a little bar of confusion forming between his dark eyebrows. He looked younger when sleepy, with his hair sticking up funny.

“Yeah, I’m going to smoke a cigarette. Go back to sleep.” 

“Oh, fat chance, thank god, I’m coming.” Sirius said, hopping up and shoving his feet down into his boots with no socks, “James threw my last pack away on the first day of class, that tosser, I could kill him, go, go -” and he practically shoved Remus out the window. 

It was freezing outside, but if you shuffled over a bit, they did have a rather nice view of other roofs and the night sky. 

Sirius was trying his hair back into a bun, Remus handed him a smoke. Lit his own. He expected Sirius to hold his hand out for the lighter, but he had just put the cigarette between his lips and leaned closer to Remus’ flame. Remus had obliged his unspoken request, lighting it for him, heart skipping a beat. 

“Greedy,” Remus admonished him.

Sirius had let out an audible moan on his first drag, first sitting then laying down flat on the roof and holding the smoke in front of him like it was a thing of wonder.    
  


“Oh mistress, how I have missed you,” Sirius said.

“Been that long?” Remus asked

“Ugh, not really, but I could kill James. He’s been trying to get me to quit for five years, said I should make a new start of it in uni. I say what I get up to is between my lungs and me.”

“Here, here,” Remus said in assent, “A man should be left alone to die stupid, by his own hand, in peace. I’m pretty sure that’s the british way.”

“Yeah,” Sirius deadpanned, “I’m pretty sure the queen’s got that tattooed on her ass.”

“In Latin,” Remus corrected.

“Well, obviously in Latin, what are we, a country of some  _ poors _ ?” Sirius stared off into the stars. 

Remus thought of his first smoke then, the older boys forcing him, their laughter at his coughing, and said, “It’s kind of nice though, that James is trying to get you out of trouble instead of into it.” 

Sirius rolled over onto his stomach to look at him where he was sitting at the edge of the roof, one arm resting on the ledge holding his cigarette and one arm curled around his knees. Siris grinned a 1000w grin.  _ God,  _ Remus thought,  _ that’s like a superpower.  _

_ “ _ Yeah, yeah. Sometimes he is. He’s good to me. His whole family is, actually, they ask me about my grades and bother me to eat enough. Wankers, all.” Sirius yawned laughing, “Still though, we all have our vices.”

“Mmhmm,” Remus replied, quietly thinking his vice would be enough to get Sirius diving off the roof away from him. 

“Are you going to tell me about yours?” Sirius asked, looking back at the sky now.

“What?” Remus asked, too quickly. He certainly was  _ not.  _

“Your vices. Or lack of vices. Come on now, Mr. Ginger Ale. You’re going to kill that plant by the way,” Sirius was teasing.

_ Bugger. _

“So what is it? Do you have some sort of ill regard for us degenerates? Or like, a medical condition? A bottle of tequila shot your brother in Reno? You’re a spy?” Sirius was clearly interested, trying to play it cool. Remus let out a little sigh.

“I don’t drink.” He looked up at the moon, crescent tonight, just a sliver in the sky. Sirius was still studying him, clearly waiting for an explanation that was not forthcoming. 

“Oooooook. Why lie?” Sirius asked.

“I - honestly, I thought it was pretty lame not to drink, you know. I wanted to fit in. I didn’t want to draw too much attention to myself.” Remus rubbed his eyes with his hand. He was expecting a lot more questions. He could feel it now, the whole of it unraveling, all his secrets like a yanked thread in a sweater. He resigned himself.

But Sirius just scooted up to sit next to him, gave him a curious look, and said, “Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Yeah, ok. Do what you’ve gotta do. I don’t think it's lame.”

Remus smiled, snubbing out his smoke on the rough surface of the roof.

“Mysterious, though.” 

Sirius stood up, dusted himself off, and offered a hand to help Remus to his feet. Remus took it, trying not to think too much of the heat of their palms. 

“Oh,” He muttered to Sirius’ back as the both clambered through the window, “I am full of secrets.” 


	5. Year One Part Five

They woke up, late, the next day to the sound of James and Peter loudly banging the one pot and one pan the boys collectively owned. 

_ They take too much pleasure in the thing,  _ Remus thought. 

“Wakey wakey!” James yelled.

“You’re lazy sods are gonna be late for class!” Peter chirped. 

Remus wanted to murder them. He told them as such.

“I am going to murder you. In cold blood. They’ll never find the bodies,” he mumbled into his pillow.

Still, he and Sirius hustled up, got dressed in yesterday’s pants straight from the floor. James had called down the hall that he had made them toast as a peace offering, and Remus had scuttled to accept it shirtless without thinking.

“Pete’s got the jam and butter - do you have a tattoo?” James had asked, startled. Remus blinked, and looked down at his arm as if it was news to him, too, then shoved the toast in his mouth. Nodded.

James reached out to see it and Remus accepted, and hoped both that it covered the scars underneath and that James was too posh to know what they were anway. He just grinned. 

“That’s really cool. Didn’t think you had it in you, what with all the sweaters. Did Sirius show you his? He’s gonna hate that yours is better. Anyway we have to GO, come on men-” and James hustled them out the door.

When they got there, they saw the group of boys Remus had found out had all gone to school with his friends. Snape, Mulciber, Avery, Nott. Remus saw their circle formation and found his stomach lurch, remembering his own bullying at the hands of boys just like time. 

This time their ire was focused on the girls in class. There weren’t many at the school, this was the first year they were allowed in and the school had only accepted 50 women to the freshman class. There were ladies in this class, Mary Macdonald and the famous Lily Evans. 

The boys were being nasty, Remus could tell just by their tone. They were asking ostensibly innocuous questions, by in that grating tone, clearly betraying their intent. 

A boy in the front, Nott maybe, had just finished saying “Well I’m sure you and the Dean of Admissions are on  _ very friendly _ terms Macdonald, I remember your grades and it must have been a hell of an  _ essay _ to get you in -” when James decided, inexplicably to Remus, that this was his business. 

“Oi! Break up the fan club, boys, we scholars would like to start the academics.” He was smiling, but Remus noticed he straightened up (Remus was the tallest of the four, but James was no slouch) and Sirius was in lock step. Shoulder to shoulder, they did look rather intimidating. 

A boy who had previously been staying out of it (Snape, Remus was pretty sure) perked up from the back. 

“This is none of your business, Potter,” he spat. 

“Learning is exactly my business, Snivellus, or else I wouldn’t be -” James started, and this nickname clearly bothered Snape who was red enough to rival a tomato, but they didn’t get to finish as their professor glided in. 

“Your seats, gentlemen.” She said, her Scottish accent sharp. 

The other boys scattered quickly. As well as professor of this class (which in Remus’ mind was mostly useless, study habits and general tips to make it through uni, blah blah) she was also their advisor and so losing her favor was rather high stakes. 

James plopped down at the table with the girls, and so Sirius, Peter and Remus followed. Mary looked pleased. Lily looked pissed. 

“You know I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Potter.” She whisper-admonished him, as they got out their supplies to begin their work. 

James looked rather bashed, so it was Sirius’ that whispered back, “I”m pretty sure it was Macdonald’s honour he was defending, not yours, Evans.” 

She scoffed, but Mary laughed. 

“Nice to see you boys again. And you’re new, who are you?” She asked Remus. 

“I’m Remus, it's nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Er, both of you, actually.” He replied. 

Lily seemed to realize she was being rather rude, turned to him and smiled. She was lovely, she had one of those faces where it seems every feature was carefully considered, exactly like someone had taken extra care in drafting her. Mary was lovely too, he realized, with box braids gathered into a bun, and an easy smile. He shifted in his seat, considering. 

Nope, gay. Pity. 

“It’s nice to meet you too. Good things only I hope, or  _ I  _ am going to have to defend my own honor. Sorry you’ve fallen in with the worst crowd already.” Lily replied, and Mary chuckled.

“I think he could have done worse,” she said, jerking her thumb to the boys in the corner.

“Yeah, that’s true, you all are better than that lot,” Lily said, running her hand through her red hair. James looked warmed by this. 

“Does that mean you’re coming to our housewarming party on Saturday?” James asked, faux casual. Peter and Sirius exchanged glances. That was news. 

“Ugh, “ Lily started, but Mary cut her off. 

“We’ll come. We’re bored.” Mary answered, and Sirius laughed. He kicked her under the table. 

“That’s the Macdonald I remember.” He quipped.

“Surprised you remember anything after you drank all those 40s -” She started back, and Remus’ stomach dropped. 

He knew flirting when he saw, it and these two clearly had history. How could he have thought Sirius was anything but straight? All of the warmth he was feeling toward Mary evaporated. She had, stupid, stupid uh - shoes or something. She was cocky, she was -

He was saved the rest of his mean thoughts because Professor McGonagall was shshing them, forcing them to return to their work. Remus simmered. Then his phone buzzed in his pocket, the group chat

**James Potter (roommate)**

_ Want to have a housewarming party on Saturday :P _

**Sirius Black (roommate)**

_ you’re insufferable _

_ but yes _

_ invite other people  _

_ we’re not doing the fake double dating thing again  _

**Peter Pettigrew (roommate)**

_ invite other  _ _ girls _

Remus swallowed. Part of him was very intrigued by the idea of a party, but it was mostly the part of him he didn’t like to indulge. The part that hoped party meant take a hit, or drink to oblivion, or finding out what it felt like to be drunk and on molly while high on shrooms. 

Sober Remus was scared of parties, and while he didn’t reckon his roommates were that off the wall, you couldn’t really tell. He decided straight forward was the only way. 

**Remus**

_ No drugs. _

**James Potter (roommate)**

_?? _

**Remus**

_ Party is fine, no drugs at the party. _

**Peter Pettigrew (roommate)**

_ well aren’t you just a bundle of laughs _

**James Potter (roommate)**

_ That’s fine mate, we don’t really do, like DRUGS _

**Peter Pettigrew (roommate)**

_ Is weed a drug?  _

__ **Remus**

_ Yes _

Remus swallowed. This was the first time he was saying no to his new friends about anything, and he wanted them not to shun him, knew he was being obnoxious. If you had sat his 17 year old self down and told him weed was a drug, he would have laughed in your face and maybe headbutted you about it. Weed was as much a drug to that version of him as children's aspirin. 

But it was hard, every day, to stay away from that stuff. He could say no to beers, but he was nervous the more temptations walked in and out of his house. He felt his heart race increasing as minutes ticked by without a response. He felt like he could hear them thinking.

_ Kill-joy. Boring. No fun. Lame. Narc.  _

His phone buzzed. 

**Sirius Black (roommate)**

_ like you even smoke, pete _

_ didn’t you throw up on dorcas meadowes last time you tried? _

_ that’s fine, I don’t want anyone mucking up the house anyway _

Remus felt relief settle into his limbs. He relaxed his shoulders.

**James Potter (roommate)**

_ Hurray! You all are the best :) Now. Lets talk payback for the SS. _

Remus didn’t reply much more during class, his friends were plotting some sort of attack on the SS (The shortened version of ‘Salazar Society, the gang the other boys were in. Remus assumed they liked the vaguely Nazi connotations of their abbreviation which was alarming enough) who apparently all lived together in some sort of house off campus like a cult or an American fraternity ( _ those are the same thing _ , Remus mused.) 

What he did do was quietly remove the bracketed description from beside Sirius’ name in the contact on his phone.


	6. Year One Part Six

By all metrics, the party started off a success. 

Sirius and James had known enough people, and those people knew enough people, that it hadn’t made much of a difference that Peter and Remus didn’t have people from their classes to invite. 

Everyone came, and someone put music on, and Sirius changed it to better music. All was right with the world. 

There was beer, but it was so bad the Remus didn’t even feel a sting of saying no. (Was part of his mind thinking about taking flight, and running off to find something stronger?  _ Yes _ , but not a very loud part.) 

Surprisingly, he found out he quite liked Lily Evans. When she had been removed from James, she brightened considerably and invited him to sit with her and Mary and their friends Marlene and Dorcas, who were all playing poker.

It turned out Lily was an English major too, and they were happily swapping complaints about the books they had to read, (Remus was put in the sticky situation of defending J.D. Salinger from Lily’s wrath, a battle he did not win.) 

Remus even came around on Mary, who looked amazing tonight as all nights, in high waisted jeans and red lipstick. He gathered, based on their gossip, that she and Sirius had dated when they were 13, but he had dumped her, and then she had dumped him, and they had been mates ever since. Remus tried to pretend that her disinterest in him (or her clear interest in a lanky boy over by the bookshelf) wasn’t the reason for him dropping his grudge.

Further down in the crowded living room. James and Sirius were holding court _.  _ Sirius was sprawled out on the couch and his drink was constantly being refilled by someone - any gender - who was pretty, and James was at the other end, grinning and telling stories with unmatched comedic timing. They were like magnets, everyone seemed desperate to be as close to their inner circle as possible. 

Remus felt a little jealous, turned his attention back to the excellent hand he was playing in poker. 

Marlene, Lily’s friend, had a short haircut and a pin on her jacket that signified she wasn’t straight and Remus, for once, wished he had some quiet way of showing her they were similar. He settled for letting her win a round of cards. She seemed pleased, if a little drunk. 

“Mama’s eating good tonight!” She had yelled, though they weren’t betting anything. 

“Are you winning, Moony?” Came James’ voice from across the room as he padded over. 

It took Remus several beats to realize  _ he _ was Moony. 

“Oh, actually, I just lost quite badly.” He said, trying to seem humble. 

James reached down, lifted the cards Remus had just folded revealing the straight flush Remus had lied about. 

“Casanova,” he nudged Remus with his elbow, “I’m on to you. Hello, Lily.”

Lily did not look up from her cards, but in the more relaxed environment, Remus noticed she flushed a little. Tucked her hair behind her ear before responding. 

“Go away, Potter.” She replied.

Maybe James had more of a shot than he originally thought.

James grinned down at Remus, shrugged, and wandered off into the rather thicker crowd.

Remus was actually a little disappointed when Mary insisted that she loved the next song on the play list and everyone had to come dance. The girls moved off to the middle of the room, where 20 or so other guests had formed a rather unpleasant looking mass. 

Mary called him a spoilsport over her shoulder, sticking out her tongue, but Remus was uninterested. He got up, wandered to the kitchen, intending to refill his water cup.

Instead, he was greeted with quite the scene in the kitchen. 

James was standing behind Sirius, who was blocking the stairwell. A boy, a handsome boy, appeared to be trying to come in.

“You weren’t invited Gideon,” James was saying calmly, “Please go home.”

Sirius did not look calm. In fact, he didn’t look like Sirius at all. His loose limbs and easy attitude had melted away, and Remus realized he actually had excellent posture when he tried. He looked like high breeding. It was like he was seeing his haughty cheekbones for the first time. He was literally looking down his nose at the boy. 

“Come on, it's just a bit of fun, all my friends are already here. I swear, Siri, I won’t talk to you at all. I’ll pretend you don’t exist.” Gideon was saying. 

James opened his mouth to respond again, but Sirius gave him a look that silenced him on the spot. James took a step back. Sirius took a step forward. His voice was quiet, but furious. He looked transformed. 

“Gideon. Get out now before I push you down the stairs.” Sirius said. 

Remus thought he meant it. 

Gideon said, “Oh, come on-”

But that was a far as he got before Sirius grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. 

“Ok, ok, Jesus!” Gideon said, “I’ll go - OW - I said I’ll go,” and he thundered down the stairs, cursing the entire way. 

Sirius whirled around, gave a hard look to James, and James nodded. Then Sirius stormed into his and Remus’ room, and Remus heard the door slam, then the window. 

“Geeze.” Remus said to James. 

James ran a hand through his hair. “Yeaaah. Gideon is bad news, so…”

“And Sirius has a temper,” Remus finished. 

James quirked his lips a little, like he felt agreeing was a betrayal, and said, “He’s the calmest in his family, though, gotta give him props for that.”

“God. Wouldn’t want to meet his mum, then,” Remus said.

James’ eyes widened, “No, you absolutely don’t.”

Remus started to the door of his bedroom, but James caught him by the shoulder. 

“Listen, mate, there is really no talking to him when he’s like this -” James started. 

Remus just nodded, and produced the pack of cigarettes from his pocket, showing James that he had absolutely no intention of talking. 

James sighed, then seemed to decide that was a good idea. 

“I’m going to make sure Gid doesn’t get back in. Good luck,” he called as he headed down the stairs. 

Remus walked through the quiet of their room - they had shut the bedroom doors for the party - opened the widow and crawled outside. Sirius was sitting curled up at the far end of the roof. He glared. 

“Don’t start.” He snapped.

Remus shrugged, held out the pack. Sirius' face softened to a general crankiness, took one. Remus lit his own, first, then handed over his zippo. 

They sat in silence for a good while, Remus sitting on the brick ledge that kept the roof from being a complete drop off, and Sirius leaning against it. He could hear the sounds of the party inside, people laughing and dancing, the songs they were singing.  _ Psycho Killer _ , maybe? He liked the Talking Heads.

Remus was happy to be in the fresh air. The bodies and the people and the sweat was all a bit much when you were sober. 

Sirius finally broke the silence as he snubbed out his cigarette. 

“Gideon is my ex,” he told Remus in a voice that seemed miles away from the hard and haughty that he had sounded inside. 

“Hmm,” Remus answered noncommittally, not wanting to seem to eager that Sirius was confirmed queer. It didn’t matter anyway, Sirius was beautiful and out of his league, and Remus wasn’t about to jump the bones of his roommate and one of his only friends. Not when he was so privately thrilled to have friends at all. Not when he had such a tenuous grip on sobriety that he had sworn off all dating entirely. Not a ‘me too’ moment, then. He let Sirius go on.

“Things ended, well - My family has a bit of money and my dad’s a politician. A gossip paper found out about me and Gideon and paid him a bit of money to be a source so they could print “Heir to the Black Fortune is a Raging Queer” on page 8. My family didn’t know,” Sirius said. He wasn’t looking at Remus. 

“I am guessing that didn’t go over so well,” He said. 

Sirius snorted, “Not so much, no. They kicked me out. I lived with James for a few years. They just started inviting me over for hols after I started going here, as long as I promise to cut out all of the gay shit. I guess this is the future they wanted for me. I hate the lot of them, but I’ve been thinking about it, because I’d like to see my little brother. He hates me as much of the rest of them, but you know.” 

“You’re thinking of being straight to see your little brother?” Remus asked, a little lost. 

Sirius laughed, just a little bit. “No, just lying better. I was a little you know, in your face about it defying them before they kicked me out. They deserved it, but you know.” 

“I get it,” Remus started, then amended, “Well, sort of. I actually, I grew up in like, a home? I don’t actually. My dad’s dead, but anyway, there are a lot of guys there I’d like to see but I… can’t go back. I miss them, sometimes.” 

Sirius looked up at him, surprised. “Oh,” he said, “I’m sorry.”

“Now  _ you _ don’t start,” Remus said, rather more sharply than he meant. To his relief, Sirius let out a loud laugh like a bark. 

“Alright then. I’m not sorry. I’m glad you can’t see your family either, now you can be miserable with me,” Sirius smirked. 

“Too true,” Remus replied, handing over a second smoke. They let another quiet moment pass. Remus thought he could hear Peter laughing inside. 

“I hate Gideon, that fucker.” Sirius said, dark cloud returning over his disposition, “I’m not even gay - well I am but not  _ just _ gay, anyway, I hate that the Daily Mail got to decide what I am before I did and I hate that that idiot came here like it was no big deal. Like I was holding some sort of romantic grudge.”

“You trusted him,” Remus said, “And he betrayed you.” 

“Yeah,” Sirius said

“There’s no coming back from that.” Remus replied, like it was settled law.

“Yeah!” Sirius agreed enthusiastically, then added, “Wanker.”

He looked considerably lighter, just to have been heard out. 

“Hey,” Sirius asked, “Why’s James calling you Moony?”

“Huh - oh,” Remus put his cigarette between his lips, so he could hold out his left arm and roll up his leave with his right. 

He showed Sirius the moon by moonlight. 

“Oh,” Sirius said, rather reverently, “It's really good.” Sirius leaned forward, traced a cloud with his index finger.

“Thanks, I think,” Remus said, shrugging, “I didn’t draw it.” 

“Yeah but still, hold on.” Sirius took off his leather jacket - an always present wardrobe staple - and pulled the back of his shirt up over his head so Remus could see the tattoo on his left shoulder.

“Toujours Pur?” Remus asked, stumbling. He didn’t know french. Bugger, maybe all rich people knew loads of french. Sirius had a nice back. He needed to  _ focus _ . 

“Yeah, its pretty stupid, but I like it. It’s the family motto, see, and they would think I had like, tarnished my purity by getting the tattoo. So it's kind of ironic? I got it when they threw me out, they said I would never be their son. But I am, so I kind of got it to spite them. Like, they can’t take away I’m one of them. They hate it, say I’m a bastard child,” Sirius concluded. 

Remus smiled. “I like it.  Why “bastard”? Wherefore “base”?” 

Sirius blinked at him.

“I - ugh, sorry, I’m being a twat, its just from-” Remus started, he was nervous now. Could Sirius put his clothes back on?!

Sirius laughed, “King Lear, I might not look it but I can  _ read _ you know. No, yeah, that’s it. A bit of a mouthful to explain anytime anyone asks sees my shoulder though.” 

He pulled his shirt back on, then his jacket, both of them throwing their butts off the roof, all signs of smoking banished just before James came thundering out, followed by Peter. They were smiling, glowing a bit in that warm drunk way.

“You lot out here talking about me?” James called. 

Peter was laughing, joining them. “Oh please, they are probably going over Remus’ study chart. I’ve got your number Lupin. No drugs, and all you want to do is read books and drink coffee. I’ve never even seen you drunk. You’re booooooooooring.” He was ribbing, just teasing. 

Remus laughed a little before smiling a wry smile, briefly looked over at Sirius, who looked amused at Peter’s clear obliviousness. Remus reached into his back pocket, grabbed his pack, knowing full well Peter hadn’t seen him smoke yet. 

“Yeah,” he said, pulling out his zippo and opening the cap with a pop top trick, then flicking the lit lighter between his fingers, twice, doing a fancy little spin before ending by lighting his cigarette, “you know everything there is to know about me, Pete.” 

Peter’s mouth fell open, and James was laughing, already admonishing them for smoking. Remus risked a look at Sirius. He was worried, the trick thing was a little silly, but he noted smugly that Sirius’ lips were parted and he was still watching Remus’ hands. 


	7. Year One Part Seven

It went like this:

They woke up, Sirius and him would sneak out to have a cigarette while James made a ludicrous amount of pancakes or eggs. (If James had practice, Peter cooked. Remus set everything on fire and Sirius only ever made toast.) 

They ate them with abandon, sitting at their living room table in boxers and shirts (which was often covered with evidence of last night’s card game, papers, syllabi, napkins with girls phone numbers from Sirius’ pockets) and often with a variety of questionable sauces: hot sauce, ketchup, syrup, butter, pepper, and pesto piled on the table. They read the school paper, the regular paper, the news on their phones. 

Then, classes. Boring and dull, but Remus liked the consistency. Remus was glad to have Lily most days, and Mary some when he had his art history course, but thrilled on days he had his College Comp with his friends. Sirius was studying business, which didn’t seem to be his choice, but so was James. Peter was doubling in urban planning and civil engineering. 

The boys normally found him sometime around midday, trying to get him to eat lunch with them, either because Remus had a break or by trying to convince him to skive off. He obliged more than he was proud of. Sirius made a habit of eating Peter’s food, which he hated. James was working on his Sirius impression, and if Remus was facing away he couldn’t tell the difference. 

They worked on their plans for the big heist of SS. Remus couldn’t tell how serious they were about breaking in and wrecking the place, but far be it for him to doubt the disastrous appetite for chaos James and Sirius had when they were together. 

After classes, James had practice. Peter’s classes ran late, because of the double major. If Remus had a meeting, he told Sirius he had a night class.

If he didn’t, he and Sirius made a game of nicking more and more ridiculous things from the campus store (reigning champ: Sirius, with a wooden lamp with the Hogart’s crest carved in), smoking, drinking coffee in the park across from the coffee shop, playing cards on the roof. Sometimes they wouldn’t talk at all. Sirius, it turned out, preferred playing his guitar to just about anything else, and Remus had books to read. They would lay on their respective beds, letting many hours pass between them, only occasionally saying “hey, listen to this -” and sharing a bit of their efforts.

That first month, Sirius was prone to playing Iggy Pop’s Lust for Life (Sirius had thrown a pillow at Remus after he started singing along off key after the second straight hour of practice) and Remus was prone to reading and re-reading Slaughterhouse Five, for which Lily mocked him endlessly (“When was the last time you read a book written after 1970, Remus? When was the last time you read a book by a woman, Remus?” she teased. He had to admit she had a point, and bought Patti Smith’s  _ Just Kids _ on her recommendation.) 

Sirius wrote songs, he confessed to Remus one day. Remus wrote poems, he had confessed back. They both squirmed a little, embarrassed, but now at least they could both work in their shared room. It had been hard, trying to steal moments alone. 

Remus tried to ignore how secretly thrilled he was that Sirius Black seemed to never want space and had decided the solution to this was to sit near Remus for hours on end. Well, as long as James wasn’t around.

When school was too annoying, or Remus couldn’t think for wanting a hit, or Sirius was in one of his dramatic moods, or if someone at any point of the day mentioned their  _ mother _ to either one of them, they turned on music so loud the neighbors beat on the floor and laid in the dark until James got home. 

Remus and Sirius were in charge of dinner, which meant they ate out a lot. (Sirius footed the bill, this was no problem, apparently.) Failing that, they worked together to create some sort of bastardized curry or terrible rice dish. There was much complaining all around, but that was half the fun, really. 

If they had homework, they would do it, then hand it over to Remus to check. Remus smirked to himself over this. He was a care home kid, a junkie at that, and the rich boys had to hand over their essays for his expertise. The boys had even jokingly called him “professor.” It only wounded him slightly to hand his calculus back over to Sirius, who would look bored and put out but correct him with surprising kindness. 

On the weekends, they would go out, which Remus could live without. 

James and Peter danced with girls and got drunk, and Remus felt more than a little other to be sitting in a sticky bar completely sober. Mostly, James and Peter didn’t seem to notice that his cups contained only soda. Sirius flirted easily with everyone, and occasionally didn’t return home until the wee hours of the morning, collapsing into his bed fully dressed in his clothes from the night before, love bites on his collar bones. 

Sometimes, Remus would skip to go hang out with Lily and her friends if they weren’t also out, and they tended to drink less. They liked to watch trashy tv and complain about boys, except Marlene of course, would complain about girls but always seemed to have one on hand. They were wicked smart, and seemed to like Remus for his sarcasm and editing expertise. Sometimes they flirted with him, which he felt a touch guilty about. 

He heard about the vile ways men were giving them a hard time on campus, yelling at them, following them, defacing their bikes or trying to hack their computers. He heard about the articles in the op-ed section of the school paper exposing their grades and debating their merits. Once while he was there, he even saw Marleen pick up her phone to get an anonymous call, a threat, and the voice on the other line had told her to ‘die, bitch.’

Suddenly he hoped James and Sirius were not at all joking about their heist, because he no longer was.

Remus went to his meetings. On Sundays, he called Poppy and told her he was still doing well. She made him promise to come visit over Christmas. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he said:

_ Hi, I’m Remus and I’m an addict. _

He missed it every day. But he was proud too. Here he was. It felt good to be free. 


	8. Year One Part Eight

Sometimes, Remus did not have a good day. Sometimes all he could do was remember how much he wanted to be high, right now, if he could only fucking get high right now, just this once. He could do it once, and feel better, and then it would be fine. Just once. He could get high right this time, not go overboard. He could be moderate about it. Only pills, no needles this time. Or maybe needles, but only sometimes.

Or maybe, fuck it, he could do it over and over and over and over again, he could do nothing else but sit alone in a big dark house piled high with junk, and he could just be a fucking junkie, thats what he was anyway - 

When his brain got like this, insistent, he knew he had to go to an emergency meeting later. He had to call Poppy. He knew he would have to journal, have to meditate. But first, he needed to wreck something. 

So that’s how James found him, grinding his teeth out in the October cold, tossing beer bottles off the roof into the alley below just to watch them smash. He was chain smoking, he was almost through this pack. 

“Moony?” James called “I - oh.” He looked surprised. Remus realized in that moment, he may look a little nuts. 

“Are you ok?” James asked. 

Remus wasn’t in the mood to explain. “Yep!” he threw another bottle. 

James came closer, looking a little hesitant. 

  
“Uh, ok. Listen mate. Can I ask you a favor?”

James ran his fingers through his hair. He dropped to the ground next to Remus, eyeing the bottles Remus had nicked from the recycling. 

Remus closed his eyes. He took three, long steading breaths. This was James, he reminded himself. James had only ever been kind to him. James had made him breakfast every day this week. 

“Sure, yeah, how can I help?” Remus asked, collapsing into sitting on the roof with one large  _ thump.  _

“I know this is going to sound a little dumb, but I was wondering if you could talk to Lily for me.” James asked. He looked a little pained. “I know that’s kid stuff. But I’ve seen you hanging out and she clearly likes you.”

“I -” James took off his glasses, cleaning them on his shirt, “this whole thing started as kind of a joke, when we were kids. I riled her up and she hated me. But we’ve… had some real moments, these last couple of years. We were school representatives our last year, had to work together on a bunch of stuff, and she’s brilliant and funny. And I know, everyone always tells me to knock it off, and I’m damn near  _ done. _ But I just… something about the way she talks to me makes me think I’ve got a shot and -” James was still talking, Remus cut him off. 

“I think you’ve got a shot.” He said, plainly. 

James lit up like a kid on Christmas, “Really? Oh, Moony, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I could kiss you.”

Remus laughed, “Well, maybe that’s not the best way to win Lily’s affection.” 

“Did she say something about me?!” James demanded. He was not hiding his eagerness very well. 

“Not exactly. But when we talk about you, it’s different than anyone else. I don’t think she’d be thrilled to admit it, but she does seem to be really curious about you.” Remus shrugged. 

James was practically hopping up and down, “What do you think I should do?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Leave her alone,” Remus said, “You can’t help but wind her up and her knowing you always right there isn’t going to make her want to take you up on it any faster.”

“Oh,” James said, looking a little crestfallen, “Right, yeah, of course.”

“But,” Remus twirled his lighter between his fingers, “I could see if we could all get together sometime? That way she could see you being… normal? Not 11 and in love?”

James grinned. Remus felt better, even better than smashing bottles. It felt good to give something to James. James clapped him on the back.

“How’d you get so good at this? Have a girlfriend hiding somewhere?” James asked. Then, as if just curious, picked up a bottle and dropped it off the edge. 

“Nah, those who can do, and those who can’t…” 

James laughed, and Remus threw a bottle, this time hitting just the corner of the dumpster. 

“Ooh, 10 points.” James said, thoughtfully. 

“And what’s 20?” Remus asked.

“Through the window there,” James said, pointing. 

“Alright then,” Remus grinned, “Gentleman’s wager?”

They shook hands and had both amassed a tied game of 120 points each before cops showed up in the alley way and they had to run, laughing, back inside. 


	9. Year One Part Nine

Remus was still working on his promise to James by the night of the party. 

James and Sirius seemed to want to host as much as possible, invited a couple of people, and quickly Remus was wondering about the fire code of his own apartment. 

It didn’t hurt that the majority of James’ teammates did at least appear to make an appearance, each bringing friends and drinks of their own. 

It was a good party, people laughing, music playing, until Remus’ nose twitched and he was sure he smelled weed. His heart sank.

Is this how it started, the drugs creeping in?

Sirius was faster than him, and he was gently asking his friends to take it somewhere else. He was laughing, and they were laughing. How did he diffuse a situation like that, easy, like you were the one who was putting him out? The joint disappeared as quickly as it had come. Remus felt lurch, an ever increasing fondness for Sirius. 

Sirius looked nice tonight, he thought. Normally he did everything he possibly could to squash this  _ particular _ thought, but the party was raging and there were distractions between them so Remus allowed himself a moment to be wistful when he couldn’t be caught staring. Sirius had his hair half pulled back, he was wearing docs and a t-shirt, seeming to move in slow motion through the crowd, everyone clapping him on the back. He looked so alive this way, happy to be surrounded by friends. 

Remus’ brain treated him to a smash cut from the last few weeks. Sirius bringing him coffee, waking him up by hitting him with a pillow, Sirius stealing a sweatshirt from the campus store in Remus’ size and leaving it on his bed, Sirius in a towel coming out of the bathroom, Sirius strumming his guitar, and, as always, Sirius laughing.

Remus looked down at his own outfit, corduroy pants worn in the knees and a plain black shirt he had borrowed and neglected to return from James. He ran his hand through his hair. Even if he did decide he could date and stay sober, he had no chance of dating someone like Sirius, who could have any person he wanted. Remus was shabby, and secretive, and broken. He wondered if there was another meeting where he could instead say: 

_ Hi I’m Remus and I have a hopeless crush on one of my only friends.  _

He didn’t get to dwell in his misery for long because like a bad edit in a movie, his past was crashing through the frame. 

Standing clear as day in the living room doorway was Danny Reston. 

Remus felt like he was going to have a heart attack. Danny had been his friend at the care home, sure. They had even just kissed a little. It had been two years - two and a half- since Remus had seen him and last he had remembered Danny had just broken the record number of overdoses in a year. Three, once where his fingers and lips had both been blue and Remus had been the fastest with the Narcan, watching him take his first breath as if coming back to life. 

He had gotten high again, as soon as he was home from the hospital. 

And here he was, standing in this room of Remus’ fancy college friends. Smiling, crooked jacked up teeth and all. He looked so thin. 

Remus wanted to be excited, wanted to think of the good times with his old friend, but the man exuded dread.    
  


“Remus!” He smiled, opening his arms. 

“Danny? What are you - how did you - ?” Remus asked, standing from the couch and guiding him to the kitchen. 

“I thought I would come visit ya! Took an unbelievable time to find you. But I thought I would surprise you!” Danny was grinning widely, happy, too happy, clearly working an angle. Remus noted, heart hardening, the oversized duffle bag. 

“Come downstairs and have a smoke, ok?” Remus said, gesturing. 

“Nah! I wanna meet all your  _ friends _ . Some party you’re having, point out who has the good shit?” Danny was laughing, but his eyes were scanning the party frantically. It was clear to Remus now that he was sick, withdrawals, probably. He would do anything for a fix, and Remus remembered that feeling like bile rising in the back of his throat. 

Sirius emerged at that moment from the hallway bathroom. Saw Danny and Remus in the stairwell, locked eyes with Remus over his shoulder. 

“Come on, Danny,” Remus said in a low voice, “Lets go downstairs, we can do this there.” 

Over Danny’s shoulder, Remus could now see Sirius whispering to James and Peter. 

“What? Are you embarrassed for me to meet all these tossers?” Danny demanded too loudly, some of his fake sweetness draining away. 

Remus gave him a shove with his shoulder and Danny moved down the stairs. He left his bag behind. When they were safely on the street, Remus crossed his arms, waiting.

“Listen man, you’ve gotta help me.” Danny started. 

There it was. Remus wondered how many times he had said ‘listen man you’ve gotta help me’ in his life. Probably thousands. He didn’t respond. 

“They are looking for me back home and I need some, I don’t have a connect out here, just give me a hit -  _ two _ , two hits, and I’ll bugger off, you’ll never see me again.” Danny said, moving closer. 

Remus didn’t uncross his arms.

“I’m clean now,” He said. 

“Hey, congratulations, big move and all that. But you’ve gotta have one, at least tucked away for old times sake. I’ve never known you not to have  _ one-”  _ Danny was pleading. 

“I don’t,” Remus said, evenly. 

“Alright, well, then you know someone. Someone from those fruity meetings you go to, there’s gotta be some _ one -”  _ Danny was going on. 

“I don’t,” Remus replied again. Danny must be pretty stuck if he was this desperate, there was always someone at home he could buy from. It’s not actually that difficult to find drugs. Then Remus saw the hospital bracelet. Rehab bracelet? Sometimes the home made staying clean a condition of staying there. Danny must be trying to keep this secret from everyone that would narc on him at home. 

“I’m sorry, Danny, I can’t help you.” Remus started to go back inside. 

Suddenly, he heard a strangled sound behind him as Danny yelled. Remus immediately knew this was going to be a fight.  _ Bugger. _ Not that he was a stranger to them, back home, but that’s not how he expected this evening to go. Danny grabbed Remus by the back of the jacket.

“Listen here you pouncy fucking git, you’re going to help me -”

“I have nothing to help you  _ with _ , Danny -”

Danny spun him around by his shoulders and socked him, right in the nose. Remus’ head hit the doorframe behind him, cutting this forehead on the hinge. Remus felt stinging pain, followed by stinging anger, and this was the moment that he dimly realized James and Peter and Sirius had just stepped through the door.


	10. Year One Part Ten

Well, that could only make things worse. 

He held out an arm to his right, telling his friends to stay back. 

“Danny, come on -”

But when Danny positioned to hit him again, Remus locked his feet in step, and hit him full force in the chest. 

It was a good hit, clean and firm and solid. Danny was sick, and Remus was strong, and he fully hit the ground after the punch. He hit his head on the curb. Remus winced at the sound. 

Still, you didn’t go down that hard and keep fighting. That had put an end to that. 

“Holy shit -” Peter said. 

Remus shook out his hand, he didn’t look away from Danny, who was sitting up, gasping now from the shock to his lungs. 

“Can you guys get his bag? Top of the stairs.” Remus asked, over his shoulder. He heard footsteps, but glanced back to see that Sirius was still leaning in the doorframe, lighting a smoke. He was wearing an expression that Remus hadn’t seen before, he didn’t look angry exactly, but he was watching Remus extremely closely. 

Maybe he thought Remus was dangerous now. Maybe they all would and he would have to move. Remus guessed that, either way, this was as close he was going to get to privacy.

He squatted down, sat down on the street next to Danny. Danny muttered a string of curses at him, but the fight had definitely left him. Remus was pleased the back of his head wasn’t bleeding.

“What happened?” Remus asked, after giving Danny a few to compose himself.

“Kicked me out, sent me to rehab. I thought if I snuck out I could sneak back in. I don’t have anywhere to go now.” Danny’s voice cracked. Remus felt embarrassed for him, because his head hurt too bad to really feel sorry. It was hard to live that way.

“I’d ask you to stay but I can’t risk it, if you’re still using. I can -” Remus took out his wallet, pulled out some bills. Poppy always sent him some money, and he had left over from his scholarship. He handed it over. It wasn’t a ton. 

Danny snatched it. Then, softly, he said, “Thanks.”

“Do you still have my number?” Remus asked.

“Yeah, I guess I - I should have called,” Danny absently scratched his arm.

“Might have saved you some trouble. But no, I meant, can you let me know when you get someplace safe? And call me, if you get stuck. I have friends, you don’t have to sleep on the street.” Remus nudged him with his trainer, Danny looked up, Remus pointed at his nose, which he suspected was already swelling, “You are a right bastard for this though.”

Danny laughed.

“Serves you right, after how many times you’ve gotten me,” he said, and Remus helped him to his feet. 

“Well, then?” Remus said.

At that moment, James returned with Danny’s bag. He looked nervous about getting too close, but Danny just took it and said cheers. 

“See you around, Lupin.” Danny called over his shoulder as he disappeared around the corner. 

Remus took a deep breath, happy that was resolved, before turning and facing the identical flabbergasted expressions of James and Sirius.

“What the fuck?” they asked, in unison.

Remus shrugged, “Um, old, friend?” he tried.

“Are you ok?” James asked, pointing at his nose.

Remus touched the end. Wet. That did feel like quite a lot of blood. Plus, distracting. He could come up with something after he fixed his face. 

“No, I should, get cleaned up.” He said, and they nodded, letting him up the stairs first. 

When they got back to the party, it was dead silent. As they walked in everyone turned to stare at Remus. From the way they were clustered, Remus could tell they had been watching him from the living room window. _ Shit.  _

For a second, he just froze, unable to think of anything good to say, 30 pairs of eyes trained on his bleeding nose. He felt like they should be carrying pitchforks.

James always knew what to say. He grabbed Remus’ wrist and hoisted it above his head, yelled “victory!” and the whole party, as if letting out a collective sigh of relief, laughed. Remus grinned. 

It seemed funny now, somehow. His friends cheered for him.

Peter found them in the crowd, “Nice one! Did you give him money, mate? By the looks of him that’s useless, he’s just going to spend it on dru-”

Remus glowered and for a second he thought he was going to punch two people tonight, but he felt a hand on his shoulder and Sirius was tugging him toward their bedroom.

“You’re getting blood everywhere, c’mon,” He said. 

Remus followed behind him, as the party picked up, music resuming. Remus headed into the bathroom, examining his face in the mirror. He looked alright, but he could tell he was going to have a black eye. He had some cuts. Sirius shut the door to their room, and then followed Remus into their tiny ensuite half bath.

Remus blinked. 

“Sit,” Sirius said, gesturing to the counter next to the sink. Remus blinked again. How hard had he hit his head?

He hopped up on the counter, and Sirius ran a rag under warm water.

“What are you -” Remus started, but Sirius was wiping the blood off his face. It was pretty nice, so Remus wasn’t complaining. 

“Who was that guy?” Sirius asked. 

Remus sighed. No point in lying to Sirius. He always managed to catch him. 

Sirius was leaning in to help him now, Remus was admiring the way his hair fell in his eyes. Trying to consciously remind himself how much eye-contact was normal.

“His name’s Danny, we grew up together in the care home.” Remus said, hoping that was enough.

“And he was just in rehab?” Sirius asked. He was leaning closer now.  _ This is very small bathroom for two people, _ Remus was musing. 

“Yeah, but I don’t know how he found me. I don’t think he’ll come back, I didn’t have what he was looking for.” Remus felt bashful, “I didn’t  _ invite  _ him or anything, I don’t want you to think -”

“I don’t think,” Sirius said, reaching up above Remus’ head to a basket that had isopropyl alcohol, he dabbed it on the rag. “I mean, clearly. It’s fine, Moony.”

“You’re good at this,” Remus observed.

Sirius smiled, he looked like he was a little shaken, “It’s not my first rodeo. Mummy dearest taught me well.”

Remus only had a second to think about Sirius’ family before Sirius moved Remus’ knee, leaning between his legs to get closer to a cut behind his ear.

Remus stopped breathing.

Sirius was being rather gentle, and their faces were very close together. Remus could smell his his shampoo. Sirius used his empty hand to move Remus’ head into better light, threading his fingers in his hair.

Then he pulled back and they held eye contact for a second, Sirius still looking heated. 

Suddenly Remus remembered the glowering look Sirius had given him outside. Maybe that was - maybe he was  _ attracted _ to the fighting -

“Oi! Doing alright?” James appeared, leaning in the door frame of their room. 

Remus jumped, became very self conscious of their position. Sirius’ face fell immediately. 

“Fine! Thanks, James,” Remus called. He went to hop down, but Sirius wasn’t moving. He was looking over his shoulder at his friend. 

James’ expression looked very even, slightly accusatory. His arms were crossed. Remus thought he looked disappointed, and wondered for a second if it was about Danny, but no, he looked like he was trying to communicate with Sirius. Sirius was looking over his shoulder at him, standing his ground.

Those two, they did that. One eyebrow quirk and they were in a fight. Eye contact for a second and a plan was established. Remus guessed that is what you got after being best friends for 8 years, but this once he just wished they would do it out loud. 

The moment passed. “Alright, just checking! Come back and hang with us, lads.” He called over his shoulder, leaving their door open as he left. 

Sirius sighed. He rolled his eyes. 

“You look presentable enough. Going to have to throw that shirt away though.” He said, poking Remus where he had a blood stain.

“It’s James’” Remus said.

Sirius broke out in an all out Sirius Black Grin. Patented. Trade Marked. “Good. He deserves it, the wanker, ” He wiped his hands on his jeans and disappeared back to the party.

Remus took another moment to study his throbbing nose in the mirror. He had no idea what just happened here and he doubted he ever would. He thought of the smell of the alcohol in his cuts and wished, not for the first time, that he had something to take the pain away. 


	11. Year One Part Eleven

Remus’ nose was still throbbing the next morning. His and Sirius’ room was mostly salvageable from the party wreckage (they had kept the door closed mostly) so the beer bottles and red solo cups were mostly from the few party guests they had let on and off the roof to smoke. Remus started picking them up. 

He and Sirius had really changed this place in just a few months, he observed. Sirius slept against the left wall, with his headboard near the window that exited to the roof.

His side of the room was messier than Remus’, mostly because he had more things. His guitar was leaned against the dresser across from the bed, next to a pile of school books and various pants from that week, balled up socks on the hardwood floor. When he tossed a particularly sticky bottle he found Sirius’ phone underneath, dead, and plugged it in for him.

On the walls, Sirius had posters and clip outs from magazines. Gig flyers, mostly, but also postcards and polaroids of him and James and Peter throughout the years, some of a boy that Remus guessed was his brother. He certainly looked exactly like Sirius, the same high cheekbones, the same dark hair. 

Remus noticed, tossing a solo cup, that there didn’t seem to be any of just Sirius and Peter, like they didn’t hang out much while James’ wasn’t around. 

The man, the myth, the legend himself was snoring lightly, drooling, fully dressed and only half under the covers. His hair was fanned out dark against one pillow, and he clutched another to his chest. Remus tried to move quietly not to wake him. 

Remus’ side was more spartan, it housed a bookshelf, (technically it belonged to James, but they all agreed it should be with Remus) which was practically overflowing already, a bed, a small dresser, and an overturned box as a night table which was littered, currently, with old cups of tea. He had the lamp Sirius’ nicked from the campus store there, and it did make reading easier. He wondered briefly if he was weird for not having more posters, but he honestly couldn't think of anything he wanted to look at every day. 

_ Well, more than the view already,  _ an insidious part of his mind whispered. It was true that he didn’t mind how it looked, with the morning sun streaming in on Sirius. 

Remus decided that was enough of that, and ventured into the rest of the apartment. 

He was expecting a disaster zone, but Peter was already up and cleaning. They both greeted each other silently out of respect for their clearly hung-over roommates, and made quick work of grabbing all the cups and bottles.

Remus was about to lug his second trash trip down the ungodly number of stairs ( _ five flights  _ he thought to himself every time he got groceries for the flat,  _ what were you thinking _ ) when he heard Peter sigh. He stuck his head in the bathroom, which Peter had volunteered to tackle, and saw that there was a message scrawled on the mirror in bright pink lipstick. 

_ We Love You James & Sirius <3  _

Peter pointed at the mirror, looked at Remus and rolled his eyes.

“Ugh,” said Remus, who was feeling a flooding sympathy for Peter scrubbing having to scrub a love note off his bathroom mirror that didn’t even acknowledge his existence. 

“Figures,” Peter said, shrugging. 

Remus considered him a moment, then said, “You wanna go get some breakfast, Pete? We can leave the rest of this for later.”

“Wha-” Peter looked over his shoulder, put down the rag he had started dampening, “Alright, but you have to wake Sirius, he’s a monster in the morning.”

“Nah,” said Remus, “We can leave those oafs to finish up.”

Peter looked initially hesitant. Remus felt it too - what would they even talk about? But he assented, and Remus sat on the kitchen counter while Peter grabbed his coat from his and James’ room.

Remus peeked inside. It wasn’t that different from his own set up with Sirius. James’ side was overflowing with posters, football stars, movie posters. He had a night table with text books and his phone charging right at arm's length. He was neater than Sirius (infact, he was arguably the neatest one of all of them) but he still had so much stuff it gave the impression of being messy. James was tucked in, barely visible except the top of his mop of hair. 

Peter’s side was less occupied. Both James and Peter had desks, making their room appear smaller from the jump. Peter’s bed was made. He had a framed picture of his parents next to his laptop. He had a throw rug under his bed that matched his comforter.  _ Probably something his mum bought _ , Remus thought, and had to keep himself from being critical about that. 

Sometimes it was hard to relate to people who’s mums got them haircuts and paid their dental bills. That wasn’t Remus’ life, and it stung ever so slightly when he was reminded. That wasn’t Pete’s fault though, it was perfectly fine to have a matching rug. A trash can in the same blue. A family with a dog, who supported you, had expectations for you. Remus adjusted his sweater, suddenly self conscious of his biggest class indicator, his wrecked and tattooed arms.

“Ready?” Peter asked.

Remus nodded, hopped off the counter, and they walked the couple of blocks to the diner. Peter got orange juice and Remus got coffee, and they talked about their classes. Quickly though, Peter was telling stories from their days in school.

“Well Snape had done this whole thing, he had a fake account trying to catfish James on facebook, right, but of course it’s James so he is like perfectly nice to the girl. Snape is writing like ‘oh you want to see my tits’ and James is like ‘oh that’s very nice mate, I’m sure they are lovely, but I’m all set, thanks!’” Peter was saying. 

Remus snorted. He realized that when Peter was allowed to get a word in edgewise, he was actually quite the storyteller.

“Anyway, it was a whole thing. That’s actually how Snape found out that James’ really has a crush on Lily, I think before that he thought James’ was just doing it to rile him up. James was trying to rile him up too, mind.” Peter finished, buttering his toast. 

Remus was just about to ask why fancying Lily would rile Snape up, when he thought of a better question. 

“How’d you make friends with James and Sirius, Peter?” Remus asked, just then realizing he didn’t know. 

“Oh we were roommates at school, but uh - you know, they got on  _ right _ away. I fell in with them after some guys started kicking the absolute shit out of me. James stopped them, and we’ve been friends ever since.” Peter said, looking rather embarrassed, “Not my most  _ manly  _ moment.” 

Remus laughed, “That’s exactly how I met Sirius.”

“No, c’mon, it’s fine -” Peter was waving him off. 

“No, really I’m serious - Malfoy and that lot had me in the locker room and were beating me black and blue and Sirius came in and they stopped. Then I basically told him to fuck off, but, you know, same idea.” Remus said

Peter blinked at him, “Wow, that’s… Honestly, hard to imagine someone kicking your ass. But I guess it happens to the best of us.” Peter toasted him with his orange juice glass. Then his phone vibrated on the table. 

“It’s James - the beasts have awakened. Should I tell them to join us?” Peter asked Remus.

“‘Course,” Remus smiled into his coffee, happy that it would take the boys 10 minutes to walk there, which gave him and Peter ample time to plot how to leverage their hangovers against them. 


	12. Year One Part Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Lily Evans Supremacy

Time seemed to move in fast forward towards the end of the term. Remus had essays on essays, essays about essays.

“I think I forgot how to read.” Remus said in a muffled voice, head on a pile of books in the library late one night. 

“Suck it up, Lupin, I have three more papers than you,” Lily teased. 

“Unnnnnn,” he said unintelligibly, “man was not made to care this much about what a bunch of old dead men had to say, it’s unconscionable.” 

Lily’s laugh echoed in the nearly empty library.

“Would coffee help?” She asked him.

“Yes,” he said, finally lifting his head and leaning his cheek on his hand, “but how? It’s -” he checked his watch - “1:57 am. Jesus.” 

Lily reached into her bag and pulled out a thermos and paper cups. 

“I brought rations,” she said, pouring them both a cup. It was still warm. 

“Oh, Lily, don’t tell James but I think I love you,” Remus said, warming his hands on his cup.

“You love Walden too much for that to be true, but thank you all the same,” she said, emptying a sugar packet into hers. 

“Oh, do I?” Remus asked, eyebrows shooting up. 

“Mmmhmm, nobody else likes that boring brick of a book,” she replied, laughing, certain. “Plus Mary’s tried to put her hand down your pants like a half dozen times and you didn’t even notice. No one says no to Mary.” 

_ Well,  _ Remus thought,  _ of all the secrets she could have guessed that one isn’t so bad.  _ At least he could stop worrying he was accidentally asking her on dates. 

Thinking about secrets, something occurred to Remus. 

“This is just coffee, right?” He asked, head tilting to the thermos she brought it in. It could easily be spiked. 

Lily sighed, exasperated. She was wearing 70s style reading glasses she made Remus swear not to tell anyone about, and her hair was coming out of her braid. 

“You think I noticed about Walden and didn’t notice that you always turn down a drink?” She asked him.

Remus shrugged.

“We’re not all as oblivious as those idiots you live with.” She said, huffy, returning to her laptop. 

Remus drank deeply from his cup.  _ Bugger. _ 15 pages still to write. 

“Well, I noticed things too, you know.” He said, trying to distract her to distract himself. 

Lily rolled green eyes. “What do you possibly have figured out about me, you git?” 

Remus leaned his chair back on two legs. “Oh, let’s see. You miss your sister.  _ You  _ wouldn’t throw Mary out of bed and oh, hm, let me think: You’re _ totally  _ as into James as he is into you.” 

Lily made an aghast face, and under the table she swiped her foot against his tediously perched chair, so he fell back, laughing, to the ground. The sound was enormous. The library was mostly empty but the miserable librarian, Mrs. Pince came hurrying over to shsh them. 

After they apologized, straightened up, and were absolutely sure she was gone, Lily whispered “I  _ do not _ fancy James Potter,” furiously back at him. 

“Oh, but you do.” Remus whispered back. 

“No!” Lily whispered back, both of them dissolving into giggles, the delriousness of the late night sinking into them. 

They sorted themselves out, and got back to work. It was two full minutes of silence before Lily finally said, “And if I  _ did _ -” 

“I knew it,” Remus replied, not looking up from his computer. 

“Don’t gloat. If I  _ did  _ it would be totally useless. Because he’s totally obsessed, you know?” She said, rubbing her eyes. 

“Oh yeah, seems a huge problem that the bloke you like fancies you back. My condolences.” Remus replied, evenly. 

“Ugh, boys. No, listen. He’s been obsessed with me since we were  _ eleven _ , Remus. He doesn’t even really like me. I could never live up to the like,  _ Lily Evans _ he’s built in his head. I’m a person, I’m - well, I’m a mess really. But he can’t see that, because he thinks of me as like, perfect.” She went on. 

Remus just let her talk, she seemed to have had this on her chest for a while. 

“I had a - friend, a best friend like that. Snape, you know, from class? He wanted me to be all these things, like kind and agreeable and to love him, I think, I don’t know, he never said. But he started saying all this vile stuff about women and the future and sluts and everything else and when I got offended he would be like ‘ _ Oh well not you, Lily, _ ’ like I was special. But I am not, I mean, I guess _ everyone _ is special but I’m not different from other women, other middle class people -” Lily sighed.

Remus closed his laptop to give her his full attention. 

“He hated every boy I ever fancied or whoever fancied me. Not just James, but  _ all _ of them. And the thing was, there were definitely days that if he had asked me out I would have said yes. He never did! Whenever we had a moment, he would ruin it by telling me all the things I was doing and thinking wrong and I just couldn’t take it anymore.” She went on.

“Since then I - I just don’t want to be anyone’s  _ idea _ of me, you know? I want to be the real me.” She took a long drink from her coffee, “I don’t know if that makes sense.” 

Remus considered her, adjusting his sweater, “No, that makes a lot of sense.”

Lily looked put at ease, relieved. 

“It’s just that -” 

She rolled her eyes, and he stopped. He gave her his best impatient expression. 

“Oh, go on then.” She said, waving him on. 

“It’s just that you haven’t given James much a chance to get to know you, have you? Snape, sounds like you were really friends. But every time you see James it’s like,” Remus stopped to make an evil expression, “ ‘Potter.’” 

Lily laughed.

“He’s a good guy, James, and for what it's worth, when he talks about you it’s not like ‘oh, she’s so perfect she has an amazing rack’ or anything. He went on for 20 minutes last week about how cool your driving is,” Remus said.

“My driving?” She asked incredulously. 

“Apparently you’re a very competent parallel parker,” he deadpanned. 

“ _ Oh my god _ . Ok, fine, point taken. Suppose that’s true, what am I supposed to do, oh Remus the all-knowing?” She fixed her glasses. 

“Come hang out. Be yourself.” 

“....when?” she replied, in a small voice.

“Saturday?” He nodded to their work, “We should be done with all this by then.” 

She nodded. He noticed, she was blushing. 

“Don’t think this has gotten you out of discussing who  _ you _ fancy, by the way.” She said.

“Well, according to you I fancy a pond.” He replied, stone cold. 

The ensuing giggle fit got them thrown out of the library, and Remus walked her home. 


	13. Year One Part Thirteen

Friday was set to be a rather huge day for Remus and his friends. That morning they were to execute what James had been calling “Operation Marauder” - there was just enough time left in the term to give the boys in the SS house hell before they all went home after their exams, and they had been planning for weeks.

Peter found their class schedules from his work study job, which gave him access to the administrator school computers, and there was a period of three hours where eight of them spanning various years in school lived in that house: Snape, Malfoy Nott, Avery, Mulicber, the others Remus hadn’t met, they all would be in class. 

James had flirted with the address of the house off of a girl they knew used to go with Nott, and had received several prominent hickeys in the process. 

“All in the name of good mischief,” He had said, before Remus had reminded him he had less than four days before they were supposed to hang out with Lily.

Then he spent several hours in the kitchen freezing spoons and rubbing toothpaste on and a million other home remedies. The good news was that the rash did fully disguise the love bites. 

Sirius and Remus had scouted out the house the previous week, which had mostly involved getting coffee, Sirius insisting the barista girl had been hitting on Remus, and arguing about which one had the better music taste -

“You like Wilco, it’s clearly me,” Sirius asserted, shoving his hands deeply into his pockets. 

“What’s wrong with Wilco? Loads of people like Wilco.” Remus responded indignant.

“Yeah loads of pretentious, soft-boy people.” 

“You’re one to talk about pretension, you don’t think there have been any great albums since literally 1999. That’s literally hipster ‘I like their early stuff’ but for  _ all music. _ ” 

“That’s just taste, Moony, that is just my excellent  _ discerning _ taste.” -

When they got to the house, Sirius stomped right through the garden, and after briefly peaking in, tried to open a window. It opened. He gave Remus a thumbs up, and they resumed their argument for the walk home. The whole operation took 11 minutes.

But today was the big day, and Remus had to admit, for a guy who used to on occasion participate in some stealing to finance his drug habit, he did feel rather jumpy. 

That thought knocked loose a kind of nostalgia in his mind, he had to be careful not to be too romantic about his days of active addiction. _ Remember the smell _ , he told himself,  _ that filthy house you used to get high in - _

“Moony?” Sirius was asking for him, he now realized. 

“Hm?” He asked. 

“Ready?” James asked. 

He nodded. 

If all else they looked the part, Remus thought. They had taken off identifying jackets (his suggestion) and put on generic hoodies, hoods up. Peter and James had switched their normally cheery pallets to darker colors, Sirius hid his long hair under a beanie. Remus, for his part, made sure his tattoo was covered and swapped his regular trainers for an older pair of Sirius’ boots. He liked them, he didn’t want to give them back.

Peter went in first, James and Sirius providing a boost to get him in the window. He scurried around and came back a moment later with the all clear. 

James was next, Sirius giving him the last shove he needed through the window. 

Remus barely needed a boost, he was tall enough, but still, Sirius knelt in the mud to make a foot lift. Then when Remus was through, he reached forward and heaved Sirus up, both of them holding tight to each other's forearms. 

They were entirely silent in the house. James, playing captain, giving point directions with the other three boys falling into lock step.

The SS house was neater than their flat, but did seem sinister. All the books lying around were a dead giveaway to Remus. Not a novel in sight, but lots of biographies about war heroes. Tons of “Get Rich Quick,” types. On his mission, Remus was pretty sure he even saw the drafts of some of the nastier op-eds that had run in the school paper. Did they write them together? 

He finished his task quickly, then went upstairs to find if James and Sirius were done with their rather more elaborate stuff. They were working silently, two halves of the same machine. Sirius tossed his screwdriver in the air and James caught it without looking, one-handed. Then they turned, stuck their tongues out at Remus at the same time. 

Ugh. James Potter and Sirius Black. 

Peter closed the last drawer he was going through with a click, and then they were back to the window, careful to wipe where they had left mud on the inside ledge before dropping to the garden ground. 

James beamed, and gestured for them to walk away. They were going in separate directions, just in case.

After a long walk, they ended up at a diner 15 minutes from campus, hoodies tied shoved in backpacks and ill gotten gains laid out on the table before them. 

“Mr. Pettigrew?” James asked, faux-formal. 

Peter pulled out a bag and dumped the contents on the table. Every condom in the place. Hundreds. They wouldn't notice they were out until it was too late. Deeply frustrating. 

James and Sirius golf-clapped. 

“And you, Mr. Lupin?” Sirius asked. 

Remus dumped his loot on the table. The remotes. Not the most creative, but again deeply, deeply annoying. 

Golf-claps again. 

“And you,  Messieurs?” Remus asked James and Sirius ( _ rich people know french, _ Remus told himself), who turned to each other with identical grins. 

James emptied his bag, which contained only a single snipped end of an electrical plug and a little black book.

“Television?” Remus asked, gesturing to the severed plug.

“Wifi router.” Sirius answered.

“Evil,” Peter noted.

“Plus we unplugged everything else and switched it so their fridge opens the other way.” James answered, evenly. 

“What’s with the book?” Peter asked, looking at James. He shrugged. 

“Snivellus’ diary,” Sirius answered.

“Oi mate, that’s too far -” James started, looking alarmed. 

“Relax, Lily isn’t going to find out, Jesus. Besides, if it's too dirty I’ll put it back.” Sirius said, shrugging.

Remus felt hot in the face. If Sirius would read Snape’s diary, would he read  _ his?  _ Had he already?

Sirius noted the tension at the table. “Can you all relax for eight seconds? It’s not really a diary, it’s an address book. See, tabs? He’s stuck in like the 50’s or something. I want to know who his contacts are. I’m going to take pictures, and I’m going to put it back.”

James looked appeased. He ordered another round of chips to the table, to celebrate a job well done. Sirius grabbed half of Peter’s sandwich, and took an enormous bite. 

“Really?” Pete deadpanned. 

James lifted his glass, “To Operation Marauder.” 

Peter mused for a second, tentative, “To  _ the _ marauders?”

It was a little silly, but Peter looked happy to be included and Remus couldn’t deny that he felt the same way. He smiled at Pete. 

“Cheers,” the Marauders chorused. 


	14. Year One Part Fourteen

On Saturday morning, Remus was shaving in the big bathroom in the hall. The one in his and Sirius’ room didn’t have a shower, and through the wall he heard James and Sirius talking about their plans for the Christmas holiday. Remus didn’t want to eavesdrop, but it was so rare to hear them without interfering influence. 

“You sure you don’t want to come tomorrow? Mum can’t wait to see you. She already started on that pudding you like.” James was asking.

“Nah, I want you to have time to be a family without me invading your space,” Sirius said. He was quietly strumming his guitar.

“Dunno how many times I have to say  _ you are family _ before it sinks into your thick skull,” James replied.

“Yeah well, so is a Chassie but you don’t mind if someone else walks him for a bit.”

“You’re not a dog, Sirius.”

“Can only dream.” 

Remus heard the  _ thwunk  _ of a blunt object hitting the wall. James had probably thrown something. 

“Oi! I’m just saying, it's a nice life to be Chassie. Sit by the fire, take a nap, get a treat, everyone thinks you’re a good boy….”

“You’re a good boy, Sirius,” James replied, dryly.

Sirius ignored him, “I’ll come next week like we planned. Unless…” he trailed off.

“Unless your mum calls?” James asked.

“Yeah, just, let your mum know in case. I wouldn’t want the pudding to go to waste.” Sirius said. 

“Mate, are you sure you  _ want _ to go, even if she does? Last time you were home was pretty gnarly.” James’ voice was quieter. 

“Leave it Potter, I’m a big boy now. I’ll probably see you next week.”

“Who’s a big boy? Who’s a big boy,” James was asking, using baby talk. 

Sirius’ groan could be heard through the wall. Remus started the water to his shower, but before he stepped in, he could make out that James was saying something else followed by Sirius muttering.

“Oh my god, this is outright  _ slut-shaming _ . I’ll control my  _ urges _ , you prat -” but that was all Remus could hear. 


	15. Year One Part Fifteen

The four boys had agreed to meet the four girls (Lily, Mary, Marlene and Dorcas) at the girls flat at 10. They were supposed to eat pizza, and walk to the movies to catch the midnight viewing of The Room. 

Remus was the only one who had been over before, so he led the way, while James asked anxious questions trailing behind. 

“How’s my hair?”

“It always looks terrible, mate, you’d be better off shaving your head.” Sirius said, adjusting his grip on the wine he had brought as a peace offering. 

“Are these pants ok?” 

“You don’t look any more like a tosser than you usually do,” Peter said, seemingly genuine in his attempt to be encouraging. 

“Do you think she’ll-” 

“Honestly, James, you gotta give it a rest or I’m going to sock you,” Remus said finally, knocking firmly on the girls’ door. 

That shut him up. They’d all been taking his threats of violence more seriously since they watched him take Danny out. 

“Remus!!” Mary and Lily choursed, clearly hamming up their excitement to see him to bother James and Sirius, respectively. They both stood on tip toes to throw their arms around his neck, and the weight of the two of them nearly pulled him over. 

_ So much for the tough guy thing  _ he thought. 

“Hello boys,” Mary said, “Come in. We’re a no shoes family.”

“If you want to suffer the stench of James’ footy feet, by all means.” Sirius said, toeing off his boots and handing off the wine to a grateful Mary.

James looked like he could murder him for making a joke like that in front of Lily. He mouthed  _ you will pay _ at Sirius while the girls went to get the pizza. 

“Oh, I just assume you all smell terrible all the time,” Lily said, handing out glasses. Remus’ was given a mug with water, no explanation needed. God bless Lily Evans. 

Remus noticed that, while trying to appear casual, she had dressed up for the occasion. Her hair was loose, and she was wearing a nicer sweater. She sat next to James on the couch. He looked visibly stunned. 

The pizza portion of the evening actually went over well. Dorcas and Peter were in the same major, and she seemed to have forgiven him for the vomit incident. 

Remus, for his part, always thought her a little shy, but with Peter’s direct questions and encouragement from Marleen, she was talking more and seemed entirely at ease. 

Marleen was on her second breakup of the semester, a girl named Jenny, but she seemed to be in good spirits anyway.

Lily and Sirius were fighting over the best Sonic Youth album, because Lily had a poster from a tour hung in the living room. Lily thought Goo was the best, Sirius, Daydream Nation.

**Remus**

_ Have you ever noticed how remarkably alike they are? _

Sirius and Lily had devolved into enthusiastic hand gestures. They were dangerously close to knocking over the coffee table. It was clear Lily was enjoying riling Sirus up more than she really believed in her album’s supremacy. Sirius couldn’t get his hands out of his hair for exasperation. 

**Captain James**

_ Moony if you start comparing Lily to Sirius I will hurl _

**Remus**

_ I’m just saying you have a type mate _

_ And that type is L O U D  _

“Everyone in the whole world knows your wrong, Evans. It’s a better album cover - that’s the only concession I am willing to make.”

“Oh yeah,  _ everyone _ ?” Lily said, and for the first time she used what would become known as the Evans defense, whipping around, “James?”

James choked on his drink like he’d never heard his name before. Come to think of it, Remus had only ever heard her say ‘Potter.’

“What?” He said, startled. 

“Which is better, Daydream Nation or Goo?” She asked, slowly, like explaining something to a child. 

James’ smile started slowly, before he caught her angle. Everyone in that room knew James couldn’t care less. 

“Sorry mate. Goo, has to be. No contest.” 

Lily looked back, smug. “So not  _ every _ one, per say-”

“Oh you’re a bloody traitor, you are,” Sirius said, glaring at James, “Fine, whatever, I’ll leave it for now Evans, but you’re dead wrong.” 

But he had already lost because, as she began gloating about her win, Lily had turned to James and put her hand on his shoulder. It was clear he couldn’t see anything else in the world. 

Sirius sighed a genuine sigh at this, looked at his drink, and got up to refill it. Remus followed him to the kitchen. 

“You can’t top  _ Teen Age Riot _ .” Remus said, leaning against the doorway, socked feet crossed at the ankle.

“That’s what I’m  _ saying _ -” Sirius started, stopped, shook his head. “Evans is just, she’s just -” 

“Flirting?” Remus tried, knowing Sirius’ sour attitude had a lot more to do with Lily using James against him than the album. 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

Sirius’ reached out for Remus’ glass, refilled it with water, handed it back to him. It seemed automatic and Remus couldn’t help but feel remarkably seen by his friends unquestioning acceptance of his sobriety. He said nothing. 

“Chin up,” Remus said, “After all someone’s gotta do it, or you’ll have to marry James yourself.”

“Ugh,” Sirius said, “He’ll make a hideous bride.” 

Remus put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder.

They gathered the gang up a few minutes later, but found when they got to the movies that the showing had been canceled, not enough interest. 

“What do we do now?” Peter asked, “Call it a night?”

Remus was tired, but he saw only barely concealed looks of disappointment on both James’ and Lily’s faces and thought,  _ Well, if there’s one thing broke kids do know how to do… _

Ten minutes later they were in a Tesco parking lot, and Remus was outlining the rules to the great shopping cart race. There were teams, consisting of a shover and a rider, and they would race. 

Lily shocked the lot of them by picking Sirius to be her shover for the first round, which turned out to be a remarkably successful pair, beating out the teams of Marleen and Mary and James and Peter. Then Marleen and Peter had a resounding come back against a James and Mary team. 

Peter decided it was unfair Remus wasn’t playing, and then quickly changed his mind as Remus picked James as his shover and employed a brillant surfing strategy that included running Peter’s cart (shoved by Sirius) into a light pole. Marleen had been, in Remus’ eye, suspiciously attentive when Dorcas’ buggy turned over, dumping the brunette unceremoniously on the ground. 

They decided, based on basically the lateness of the hour, that the final was upon them. Lily had won 5 races and so had Sirius, so they picked partners to battle for the crown. 

Sirius looked thoughtful. 

“Moony.” He said, pointing at Remus and using a thumb gesture to beckon him in. 

Both James and Lily looked aghast. 

“Sorry,” Sirius said, looking at his best friend, laughing, “I wanna win.”

Lily huffed. 

“James!” She said. He hustled over and they put their heads together, urgently whispering, strategizing. Sirius turned to Remus. 

“Moony, I can’t handle James when he’s being fake-humble. It’s all we’ll hear for the next six years. When we were 12 we had this contest about who could get this girl to go to the dance with us - It’s been 7 years and I still have to hear about how Emma said yes to  _ him _ and not to me.” He looked grim. Remus nodded solemnly. 

Remus climbed into the cart, then much to everyone’s surprise, James - not Lily - climbed into the cart next to him. 

“Bold choice, Potter,” Sirius said.

“This is payback for third year, Black,” James replied, adopting a crouching stance.

Peter yelled from the finish line, “On your mark, get set -”

Sirius and Lily were talking smack.

“Go!” 

In the end, it was a close match, but Remus was able to surf James off course, and he hit a rock, sending his cart tumbling over. Remus glided to victory.

“What was  _ that _ , Bambi? Lily demanded of James. But they were both laughing, and she was helping him up? 

“Yeah Bambi, what was _ that? _ ” Sirius called from the finish line, helping Remus out of his cart. Sirius hooked his arm under Remus’ in a side hug to brace him. Remus wondered if he had been touched more in the last four months than the rest of his life put together. 

“I’m sorry I let our team down, Evans,” James said, brushing gravel from his palms. Lily found his glasses on the ground - miraculously unscathed - and instead of handing them back to him, stood on her tip toes to put them back on his face. 

“Don’t let it happen again, Potter,” she said.

Sirius made a gagging gesture to Remus. 

They wrapped up after that, walked home, and James seemed to have never been so happy to lose a game of anything in his life. 


	16. Year One Part Sixteen

James and Peter left the next morning for their family homes, and Remus was secretly glad Sirius was waiting to see if his family called before going to James’. He had been dreading the oppressive quietness of the empty flat. The holidays were notoriously hard on addicts and people without close families, and Remus was both. He was only sorry he’d have to be alone after he returned from Poppy’s on boxing day.

Sirius and Remus had spent most of the day together, making coffee and generally bickering about what to watch on tv and what to order for lunch but Remus could tell he was jumpy, checking his phone a lot. Remus guessed, but didn’t ask, that he was waiting to see if his parents would call every second. Dreading it, and wanting very much to be included. 

“Ugh,” Sirius complained at around midnight, flopping face first into Remus’ bed. Remus clenched his jaw and tensed his fingers around his book, trying desperately to remember standard protocol friend behavior for when your friend is in your bed.

“I’m bored,” Sirius said, oblivious. 

“Want to read?” Remus offered.

“Fat chance.”

“Go play your guitar.”   


“It’s boring.” 

“Text James,” Remus rolled his eyes.

“Bambi’ll just tell me about the loveliness of Lily’s eyelashes or something.”

“Ok, well, go get laid,” Remus said, flicking the page in his book. 

Sirius lifted his head from his faceplant position to glare at him, then dropped it back into the pillow and groaned. 

Remus went back to his book. He expected Sirius to bound up any second with his seemingly endless energy and suggest they do something ridiculous, like sneak onto the roof of the chemistry building or start a two man band, but he seemed genuinely defeated. 

Finally, Sirius said, “Is it hard - not spending Christmas with your - a family?” directly into the pillow, and Remus, who normally had a touch of trouble feeling sympathy for anyone else this time of year  _ thank-you-very-much _ , felt his heart lurch. 

“Yeah, mate, it’s always hard.” Remus said, turning his page. 

“Comforting.” Sirius scoffed, resentfully.

Remus shifted on the bed. 

“I spend Christmas with people I care about now, and I have you guys when the term starts again. I’ll never have like, the traditional Christmas, but it's nice. Family is who shows up for you, s’all.”

Sirius murmured into the pillow, noncommittally. 

Remus thought of something, and hesitated. He was pretty sure he had seen James - but James was  _ different, _ James was Sirius’  _ best friend  _ and would Remus be giving himself away if he just - 

Remus dropped his hand from its position slung over the headboard to stroke Sirius’ hair.

It was, certainly, something he had seen James do drunk (although Peter roasted them both for the casual displays of affection). It was undoubtedly something he would have done if one of the younger boys had climbed into his bed, missing his parents, one night at the care home. People needed to be touched, even boys. It didn’t  _ mean _ anything.

And still, the moment he made contact it felt like the world stopped spinning. Remus stopped breathing, waiting for Sirius to jerk away. He kept his eyes trained on his book.  _ Plausible deniability.  _

Sirius didn’t jerk away. Remus was about to withdraw his hand, mark the experiment failed, when Sirius let out a long breath and curled up closer, adjusting so Remus had better access to his head. Then, seemingly with his own moment of hesitancy, he slung an arm over Remus.

Sirius wasn’t holding him, but definitely creating contact than was necessary. Remus was embarrassed by how acutely aware he was of the weight and heat of Sirius’ forearm across his stomach. 

Remus hid his smile behind his book. He had read the same line over and over. He kept running fingers through Sirius’ hair. It was ungodly soft, and smooth, which Remus found unfair in comparison to his curly mess. 

Sirius, for his part, seemed to be holding as still as possible as if moving would break the spell. Then, quietly, he made a tiny noise of contentment. 

Remus wasn’t sure how long they laid like that before he fell asleep (though he did notice after a while that it was getting rather like petting a dog, and had to stop himself from giggling) but when he woke up in the morning his book was on his bedside table and the covers had been thrown over him. 


End file.
